


Thank You For Everything

by Worn_Out_Spine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Sex, cute and sarcastic sherlock, fluffy sex, kind of, mollys super good in bed, sexy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worn_Out_Spine/pseuds/Worn_Out_Spine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After coming home to her flat, Molly finds Sherlock waiting for her in the bedroom. An evening of romantic passion follows.  Set in a semi AU where they have slept together before and are in some kind of established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a day and published it after midnight without having it betad so I apologize profusely if there are any grammatical/spelling/weird errors within

            “Why?” Sherlock groaned, his eyes pressed shut, his voice low and gravely.

            “Why what?” Molly absentmindedly replied, braiding her hair hastily in front of the mirror.          

            “Why do you have to go to work? I mean, here I am naked in your bed, yearning for you. Just two months ago you would have given up anything for this opportunity, admit it.” He slowly sat up in Molly’s full size bed, his naked body tastefully covered by her white sheets, and he ruffled his hair in the way he knew made Molly tremble. He rested his elbows on his knees and cupped his face in his hands, watching Molly perform her morning routine, scrambling to get dressed and get to work on time. “Oh, come on. Admit it.”

            Molly smiled at him fondly while packing her bag. “Really, Sherlock, I have to get going, I’ll make it up to you later I promise.”

            Sherlock merely groaned and flopped down onto his back, his arms and legs outstretched. “You torture me.”

            “Oh, please. You’ll get over it.” She stood in the doorway smiling, but Sherlock could see the twinge of sadness in the tightness of her face.

            “I won’t. I won’t ever get over you, Molly Hooper.” He held out his hand to her, propping himself up with his elbow and Molly slowly walked next to the bed, taking it with her own. He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it firmly. When he started to see her eyes glisten, he was alarmed. “Did I do something wrong? I’m not... I mean, you know how I am and I –“

            “Shut up.” Molly said laughing, wiping her eyes. “You did nothing wrong, I really got to get to work I’ll see you later.” She rushed out of the room, and Sherlock heard her sniffles grow fainter, and then heard the front door close and lock. She was gone, and he was all alone in her flat and alone in her bed.

            The sheets smelled of her, the pillowcases especially, and he wrapped himself in it. It was comforting. After a few minutes he fell back asleep, engulfed in everything Molly.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

            After sneaking out of work early, Molly returned to her flat. As she unlocked the front door and stepped inside she gaped in amazement, loudly dropping her bag on the floor. The entire front room was _spotless_ , everything in neat piles, the blankets folded smoothly, and the floor freshly vacuumed. She wandered into the next room, the kitchen, and found that immaculate as well. The dishes were washed and put away and the counters had been cleaned. Everything was sparkling and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

            “Sherlock?” Molly called into the flat, stepping into the hallway. “Sherlock, where are you and what have you done?”

            “In here.” A distant voice answered, and Molly attempted to follow it, muttering to herself in amazement at the cleanliness of her usually cluttered flat. When she got to the bedroom she gasped. It was dimly lit, but on every flat surface there were lit candles. She was sure she even spotted a rose or two amidst the flickering lights. Sherlock was seated on the edge of her well-made bed; his white shirt rolled up to the elbows and mostly unbuttoned. His hands lay in his lap, and he looked up at Molly demurely through his lashes.

            Molly had never seen Sherlock look at her like this before, and never had she thought he would stage something this romantic. This wasn’t like him at all. It was nice, but it was very, _very_ different.

            “Sherlock, what’s goin…” Molly trailed off when she felt on his hand close around hers. She looked down, not knowing she had moved this close to him. She was standing before him, and he stayed seated on the bed, looking up at her with those large shining eyes.

            “Molly, you are considerably more intelligent than the average person, I think you know what’s happening and what my intentions are.” Molly’s eyes widened and her breathing stopped for a few seconds. “And it’s not like we haven’t done it before…” Sherlock drawled, closing his other hand around the one already in his grasp.

            Molly attempted to hide her wide grin by turning her head away, but one of his hands caught her chin and brought her face back.

            “Come now, don’t get embarrassed right when we’re getting to the good part.” Sherlock said, smirking. With her free hand Molly covered her eyes and smiled. When she removed it she found Sherlock standing before her, and she bit her lip in excitement as she looked up at him. His hand was still gripping hers, and he squeezed it softly before letting go, moving his hand to her cheek.

            Closing her eyes, Molly leaned into his touch, and felt his free hand wrap around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. He lowered his mouth onto to hers and kissed her slowly and softly. It was a chaste kiss, a simple one, but it was heaven to Molly. He kissed her with more passion than anyone had before. His kisses meant something; they weren’t thrown about or used as things to fill time with. When Sherlock kissed her she knew it was for a reason. Every kiss was powerful, charged with unspoken promises and emotions. Sherlock may not always tell her how he felt about her, but one kiss was all the information she needed.

            All of a sudden her coat and sweater was off and she was under him on her bed. She laced her fingers behind his neck and tangled in his hair, her thumbs resting on his jaw. Their kisses had become faster and wetter. His tongue had found its way into her mouth at some point, and she was making small, desperate noises into his. As he pulled away for air Molly caught his bottom lip with her teeth, and gently pulled at it. The sound he emitted was somewhere between a moan and a growl, and he began to hastily unbutton her shirt. Molly sighed when his long fingers grasped her breasts over her bra, and when he unlatched the buckle in the front, eliminating the barrier of cloth between his warm hands and her chest, Molly threw her head back.

            Sherlock gently traced his thumbs over Molly’s budding nipples, and felt them harden under his touch. Her hands worked their way into his full head of hair, and she pulled the curls out of pleasure as his mouth lowered onto her right breast.

            “Oh, Sherlock…” She moaned, and realized that she was still wearing pants. Fumbling with the button and zipper, she wriggled out of her cords and kicked them off of the bed, doing her best not to knee Sherlock in the process. Once her legs were bare she wrapped them around his waist, their skin to skin contact interrupted by the thin shirt he still had on. Sherlock has made his way to her other nipple by the time she had gotten her pants off, and his hands were rubbing up and down her sides.

            Molly attempted to unfasten the buckle on his pants, but her hands were lightly swatted away, and he began to quickly undo it himself. Propping herself up on her elbows, Molly watched, her eyes shining and her mouth watering, not trying in the slightest to downplay her desire. Sherlock slid out of his pants and carelessly tossed them besides Molly’s discarded pants on the ground.

            It shouldn’t have been surprising that Sherlock had been going commando, given his personality and his opinions on trivial items such as underwear, yet it caught Molly of guard. He stood in front of the foot of the bed, completely unclothed like a statue by Michelangelo. Molly’s eyebrows shot up when she noticed that he was most definitely turned on, his cock hard and twitching.

            She looked up at him, naked and exposed, and tilted her head towards the spot next to her. He smiled and climbed onto the bed next to her and lay down on his back. With one hand he stroked her upper arm and the other wrapped around his penis. He began to move his hand up and down his shaft, and brought his gaze to Molly’s face, not breaking eye contact even as his hips jerked up into his hand, and he moaned quietly.

           Molly licked her lips, brought herself up to her knees, and then bent over Sherlock, replacing the hand on his cock with her own. She dragged the pad of her thumb over the head and slit, and then began to pump her hand up and down.  Sherlock’s eyes were closed and his face was flushed, but when he felt her mouth on his cock his eyes opened wide. Molly brought her mouth down as far as it could, his cock grazing the back of her throat, and then pulled it off. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and then bent over again, holding him with one hand she licked up his length, from the base to the tip, and again enclosed her mouth around the top. She sucked slowly and deeply, pulling him further and further into her mouth.

          Beneath her Sherlock was wriggling, a moaning mess. One of his hands was rested on her hip, the other he had on his face. Molly liked when they were like this, when she had the power to make Sherlock moan, not the other way around, which happened often and easily.  After she swirled her tongue around the head, Sherlock sat up quickly.

          “No, no, I’m too close” He groaned, and she grabbed his cock at the base to stop him from coming too soon. He breathed heavily for a few seconds, and then nodded at her. He reached out to the bedside table, grabbed the condom he had placed there earlier, tore off the package and slid it on. Molly leaned in and kissed him sloppily, haphazardly tore off her panties, and then climbed on top of him. She lowered herself down onto his penis slowly, using his chest as support. After sitting there for a breath, she began to move her hips up and down, pulling Sherlock in and out of her. Sherlock groaned, his hands reaching around her and grabbing her butt cheeks. Molly’s pace alternated from rapid movements to excruciatingly slow movements. The change would bring Sherlock to the edge, and then pull him back. Molly wanted this to last as long as possible, and she felt herself coming closer and closer to her climax.

           When she decided she had tortured him long enough her hip movements became erratic. After half a minute of this Sherlock came with a loud moan, his eyes squeezed shit and his brow furrowed, half sitting up in response to the pleasure. Once it was over he sat up completely, wrapped his arms around Molly, and let her ride out the rest of her pleasure. When she came she bit his collarbone to stop herself from screaming too loud.

           They stayed like that for a few minutes, wrapped around each other. Both of them were exhausted, and reluctant to leave their comfortable position. But after a while Sherlock wanted to free himself from the condom, and Molly slipped off of him with a soft groan. She sprawled on the bed as he stood up, unrolled the condom off of his cock, and threw it away. When he flopped back down on the bed besides her, she snuggled up next to him. He put his arm around her, and she rested her chin on his chest.

            These moments were the ones that Molly treasured the most, the aftermath of their lovemaking. She always felt like she was on more of an equal footing. He may have made her scream, but she had made him moan beneath her touch, and that wasn’t something she wanted to forget.

            “Thanks for today… for everything.” Molly said quietly, breaking the silence, and kissed the skin beneath her. His hand rubbed her back, and his bent his head to softly kiss her forehead.

            “No, Molly. Thank you…for everything.” Molly smiled and curled herself around him even more. She fell asleep in his arms, but Sherlock stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, pondering the enigma that was Molly Hooper. 


End file.
